


what we could've been

by third



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Future Fic, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/third/pseuds/third
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: zarry, harry shows up at zayn's place in la</p>
            </blockquote>





	what we could've been

**Author's Note:**

> written for the zayn!centric ficathon on [livejournal](http://eccentricsimply.livejournal.com/8386.html). enjoy! x

_Miss you. Wish you were here._

-

Zayn supposes it really shouldn’t be a surprise.

It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before. He knows that the boys are done with their tour. Remembers how he spent that night downing shot after shot, trying to forget that once upon a time, he was with them too. It’s nights like those that made him question whether his decision was right after all.

He also knows that Harry is back in LA, just a few doors down, making it inevitable that they would eventually meet. He imagined it would be spontaneous, randomly seeing each other in the street. At one point, Zayn even considered going over to Harry’s house himself, before he realised how horribly that would go.

Still, opening the door late on a Friday night to see Harry standing outside is not what Zayn expected. Harry is wearing one of his ridiculous shirts, unbuttoned so low that his butterfly tattoo is clearly visible. It floors Zayn, how much he’s missed Harry. He can’t help but stare, the changes of the past year looking so much different in real life compared to the few images he allowed himself to see online. Harry’s hair has grown. He looks different somehow, in a way that Zayn can’t pinpoint precisely. He looks tired. Older.

“Haz,” Zayn says, softly. He’s not sure what else to say.

Harry gives him a wry smile. “You gonna let me in?”

Stepping back to let Harry in, Zayn looks out into the night. It wouldn’t be good if pictures came out of this visit.

Zayn locks the door as soon as Harry is inside and turns around, but before he can even open his mouth to ask Harry what he’s doing here, he’s pushed against the door.

The warmth of Harry’s mouth is familiar and Zayn instinctively sinks into it. He opens his mouth and his hand finds its place at the back of Harry’s neck. Harry’s hand is warm where it’s cupped around Zayn’s cheek, the other sneaking behind his head to tug at the short strands of Zayn’s hair. He moans into Harry’s mouth and that makes him spur into action, sliding his hands down to Zayn’s waist before grabbing his ass and dragging him closer so that their crotches are pressed flush against each other.

Zayn gasps and pulls back. “Haz,” he says, trying not to moan at the feeling of Harry pressing kisses down his neck. “Harry, stop.”

It makes Harry look up at him from where he’s sucking a mark next to Zayn’s collarbone. “Yes?” Harry says, pressing another kiss to Zayn’s skin. It makes Zayn dizzy with all the want he’s been supressing.

“Should we really be doing this?” Zayn asks anyway, and he hates himself a bit for it. He wishes he could just sink into the familiarity of it all and have Harry – whatever fleeting part of Harry he can get.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Harry says, like it’s easy, and he grins at Zayn. It isn’t the same, isn’t a grin that Zayn knows and it makes him shut his eyes trying to fend back the memories of times similar to this. Of the times where it _was_ easy, where he could just lose himself in everything he had with Harry.

It’s another kiss, soft against the bruise that’s starting to form on his clavicle, that makes Zayn open his eyes again. Harry is looking at him again, but the challenge in his eyes is gone, replaced with what Zayn knows by memory is sadness. He doesn’t know whether it’s better or worse.

“Just once more, Z,” Harry says. “Just once.”

And Zayn has never been able to say no to Harry, so he drags Harry back up into a kiss. It’s hot, it’s filthy, and it’s everything they used to be.

It isn’t long before Harry is grinding up against Zayn, his cock a hard line against Zayn’s thigh. Zayn’s own cock is straining against his shorts. He manages to pull away from Harry. “Bed?” Zayn says, and Harry nods eagerly, pressing his mouth back against Zayn’s but moving backwards towards the stairs.

They manage a few steps, still pressed together before they stumble and they both laugh. It makes Zayn’s chest ache more than it should.

“Shh,” he says instead, and Harry looks confused before he looks to his right, to where Rhino’s sleeping soundly in his little dog bed.

“Is that Rhino?” Harry asks, and Zayn hides his surprise that Harry knows. He nods, trying not to notice the way Harry’s face softens when he looks back at Zayn. “He’s beautiful,” Harry says, and Zayn knows he’s talking about Rhino but Harry is looking directly at him so he kisses him again and grabs his hand to pull him upstairs. Harry stays close, pressing kisses to Zayn’s neck when he can, and Zayn’s back feels the warmth of his presence.

Harry strips Zayn of his shirt as soon as they enter his room, throws it somewhere on the ground and then pushes Zayn onto the bed. Harry crawls over him until his calves bracket Zayn’s thighs and they’re face to face, Harry leaning over Zayn on his elbows.

“Hey babe,” Zayn says with a smile, before he can stop himself, and only a flicker of emotion passes Harry’s face before he leans down and kisses Zayn. It’s like it was in the hallway, intense and hot, and it only gets better when Harry slowly drops his weight and grinds down. His cock feels a bit sensitive against the material of his shorts and Zayn can only imagine how Harry feels, still in his tight jeans, but it feel too good to stop.

Zayn’s hands reach back to grab at Harry’s ass, pulling him closer until there’s no space between them. Harry moans and, greedily, Zayn tries to commit them to memory.

“Zayn,” Harry says, face flushed with arousal. He pulls back so he can look at Zayn’s face. “Can I?”

Not entirely sure where this is headed but trusting Harry completely, Zayn nods and Harry smiles and presses a quick kiss to Zayn’s lips before his mouth trails down, kissing and nipping at Zayn's neck. Harry keeps going, his mouth fitting against the lips on Zayn’s chest and then flicking his tongue against Zayn’s nipples when he reaches them, making Zayn groan and buck his hips.

Harry’s hands press against his hips to make them stop moving, and it makes Zayn flush. His cock is dripping with precome and he’s in desperate need for some friction.

“Harry,” Zayn says, a bit breathless, wanting Harry to hurry up. But Harry continues slowly pressing kisses down his stomach. When Harry kisses at the heart tattoo on his hip, Zayn’s breath hitches.

“Can I?” Harry asks again, and this time Zayn nods knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

The feeling of Harry’s breath on his cock through his shorts makes Zayn shudder and he fists a hand in Harry’s hair before Harry has even touched him. It makes Harry chuckle, still right above Zayn’s crotch making his problem even worse and Zayn whines, low and needy.

“It’s alright,” Harry says, his hands curling over the waistband of Zayn’s shorts, before pulling them off completely. “I’ve got you.”

It makes Zayn realise that he’s completely naked now while Harry is still fully dressed and he reaches down trying to get at Harry’s shirt but he’s stopped by a hand holding both of this wrists against his stomach. Harry is hovering over him, looking entirely unaffected besides the slight redness of his lips from kissing Zayn. It’s unfair, the way the sight immediately makes Zayn’s skin feel hotter.

Harry lets go of his hands but Zayn keeps them where they are. In return, Harry presses a kiss to Zayn’s inner thigh.

The first touch of Harry’s mouth against Zayn’s cock feels amazing and Zayn throws his head back, letting out a loud moan. He tries to thrust up, but is stopped by Harry’s hands gripped tightly around his hips holding them down.

He’s torn between closing his eyes and just enjoying it, and watching Harry.

His need to see Harry wins out and he looks down to see Harry’s mouth stretched so prettily around his cock. He moans again as Harry’s gaze catches his and they stare at each other as Harry sucks.

It’s not long before Zayn feels worked up and entirely too close to coming. Harry flicks the tip of his tongue against the slit of Zayn’s dick and Zayn gasps his name. “Harry, Harry. I’m close –”

Harry pulls off with a pop and Zayn misses the heat around his cock already. Harry presses a kiss against the tip of Zayn’s dick and then looks up at him. Zayn can see Harry’s bulge, the fabric of his jeans pulled tight around his cock.

“What do you want?” Harry asks, running his hands up and down Zayn’s thighs. It feels intimate. It makes Zayn shiver.

“Want you to fuck me,” Zayn says, watching as Harry’s eyes widen a fraction. Harry immediately leans down and kisses Zayn, so Zayn thinks he said the right thing.

“Lube and condoms?” Harry asks, between kisses.

“Top drawer,” Zayn says, missing Harry’s warmth when he gets up to go get them.

He’s back soon enough, dropping the lube and condoms onto the bed. He’s still in his jeans and Zayn realises how selfish he’s been.

He sits up in the bed and moves so he’s resting on his knees in front of where Harry is still standing at the edge of the bed. He kisses Harry and slides a hand down to palm at Harry’s dick.

Harry groans into his mouth and Zayn takes it as a sign to unbutton Harry’s jeans. His cock bobs free and Zayn wraps a hand around it, sliding upwards and catching the precome that’s leaking from the head. Zayn stares at Harry’s eyes, never breaking contact, as he slides down the bed until he’s on all fours and his face is right in front of Harry’s cock.

Harry’s hands reach out to grab the back of Zayn’s head and push him down towards his cock. Zayn flicks his tongue out and licks the head of Harry’s dick.

“Stop being a tease,” Harry says, and Zayn wishes he wasn’t searching for the sound of fondness in Harry’s voice.

He swallows Harry down all in one go and this time it’s Harry who throws his head back and moans. The sound is addicting. Zayn pulls off, licking at the vein on Harry’s dick until Harry pulls at his hair and uses his other hand to line his dick up to Zayn’s mouth.

Zayn opens his mouth and takes the tip of it between his lips but he stays still. He looks up at Harry and Harry groans when he realises what Zayn wants him to do.

Harry thrusts slowly at first, and Zayn loosens his jaw to take in more of Harry. Soon Harry has a rhythm going and he’s fucking into Zayn’s mouth properly.

Harry’s hands are trailing down Zayn’s back and when Zayn first feels a lubed finger against his asshole he moans around Harry’s dick. Harry stops moving, his cock just resting between Zayn’s lips while Zayn sucks and licks at the head, and then he presses the first finger inside.

Zayn moans and presses back against Harry’s finger, Harry’s cock falling from his mouth as he tucks his head down against the sheets.

It’s been a while but Zayn still feels the pleasure as Harry’s finger thrusts in and out of his hole. He feels a second finger join the first and he whimpers when Harry scissors his fingers. By the third finger, Zayn is rocking back against Harry’s hand. Harry is not even moving anymore, just watching as Zayn fucks himself on Harry’s fingers.

When Harry's fingers hit his prostate, Zayn has to wrap a hand around his cock to stop himself from coming.

“Now,” Zayn says, “now.”

Harry withdraws his fingers and pushes Zayn until he’s on his back with Harry between his legs. “I want to see you,” he says.

Zayn watches as Harry rolls the condom onto his dick and lubes up. He lifts his knees up to his chest and Harry helps him, one hand holding one of his legs back and the other lining his cock up against Zayn’s asshole.

The first press has Zayn moaning, Harry’s cock feeling too big and too hot against his hole. Then the tip of Harry’s cock breaches and Zayn drops his legs and reaches out and grabs hold of Harry’s shirt, pulling him until he’s right in front of Zayn.

Harry kisses him, swallowing his gasps as Harry finally bottoms out, his balls pressed firmly against Zayn’s ass. Harry stays still as Zayn gets used to the feeling. Harry is still kissing him, his lips, his cheeks, his nose. He whispers sweet nothings into Zayn's ears and Zayn is overwhelmed with the need to cry.

“Move,” Zayn says, instead, and then Harry is fucking into him slowly.

Harry moans into Zayn’s neck and Zayn lets out tiny gasps as Harry starts to fuck him harder. He can’t seem to hold back his moans and Harry is thrusting into him, hard and fast. Harry pulls back until just the tip of his cock is holding Zayn open, and then fucks into him all at once. It feels too deep, too much and yet not enough.

The fabric of Harry’s jeans is chafing against his skin, but it feels so good that Zayn doesn’t even care.

Zayn moves his hips back, trying to get Harry in deeper, trying to match the bruising pace that Harry set. Zayn reaches out to pull Harry against him and all of Harry’s weight drops onto him.

Zayn feels so close to coming and he’s barely even touched his dick.

Harry is grinding into him now, barely pulling out and it feels so _deep_. Zayn wriggles a hand between their bodies and wraps a hand around his dick. It only takes two tugs and then he’s coming, making a mess of both of their stomachs.

Harry is still fucking him and Zayn starts to feel oversensitive, but when Harry moves to pull out, Zayn wraps his legs around Harry and pulls him back. Harry’s cock thrusts in deep and it surprises a moan out of Zayn.

“No,” Zayn says. “Inside. I want to feel it.”

Harry groans and then thrusts once more before he’s coming, burying his face against Zayn’s neck. Zayn can feel the warmth as Harry fills the condom.

They stay there, bodies pressed together, just breathing. It’s been so long, Zayn had forgotten how good it could get.

Harry leans up onto his elbows and catches Zayn’s mouth into a kiss. It’s softer than the rest. It kind of feels like a goodbye.

Harry gets up then, pulling out of Zayn slowly. Zayn winces, and his body starts to ache. He feels disgusting, his come drying on his stomach and when he looks, Harry has come on his shirt and some on his butterfly tattoo. Zayn watches as Harry ties the condom and throws it into the bin besides the bed.

When Harry gets up off the bed though, Zayn sits up and reaches for his arm. He ends up holding onto Harry’s hand and Harry looks surprised.

“Are you going to go back?” Zayn asks, biting his lips.

“I should,” Harry says slowly. He looks like a wreck, his hair messed up and clothes all dirty.

“Can you stay?” Zayn asks, softly. He doesn’t know why he does. But the thought of Harry leaving tonight makes his heart ache. Harry still looks torn so he adds, “Please?”

Harry nods. “I’ll get us a cloth to clean up,” Harry says, and then he leaves the room.

Zayn knows that Harry probably doesn’t know where it is, but he leaves him to it, leaning back down and staring up blankly at the ceiling.

He doesn’t know when he closes his eyes, but he opens them to Harry gently wiping a warm cloth against his stomach.

“Thank you,” Zayn says, and Harry just hums in response.

When Harry is done, he leaves the cloth on the bedside table and strips out of his dirty clothes. He pulls Zayn up so his head is resting on the pillow and then slides in beside him.

The silence is thick between them, and there’s so much to say but it feels like there’s no way to say it.

Eventually Harry turns onto his side, facing away from Zayn. “Goodnight, Zayn.”

“Night, Harry.”

Zayn knows Harry isn’t sleeping but doesn’t call him out on it. He stays there awake, until he hears Harry’s breath even out.

Zayn wonders when the next time they’ll see each other will be. Whether anything would have changed. Whether they’d be able to fix anything.

He turns his head and looks towards Harry, staring at the curve of his back, the grooves of his spine, the way his hair falls across his back and onto the pillow. He tries to commit it to memory.

He deliberately tries not to think about the last time they were in the same bed. The last time they slept together, when everything was still all right. The last time, right before Zayn left without telling Harry.

Zayn knows Harry has every right to be angry. He’s heard Harry talk about his leaving, when he was curious and mad at himself, wanting to feel at least some of the hurt that Harry felt.

At least Zayn could give him this.

He doesn’t think about the message on his phone that he told himself he’d delete but never did. The message sent months ago, on the last night of the OTRA tour. He doesn’t think about his reply.

Instead, he stares at Harry’s back, hit with the sudden urge to touch, to put an arm over Harry’s waist, kiss the knobs of his spine, run a hand through Harry’s hair.

He doesn’t though. Zayn allows himself to press the tips of his fingers against his own mouth and press them lightly against Harry’s shoulder. Not even a kiss.

He turns around and faces the opposite way, closes his eyes and thinks, _I could’ve loved you_.

He wishes sleep would come easier this time.

-

In the morning, Harry is gone.

Zayn can hear Rhino whining from where he is downstairs, probably hungry or wanting a walk.

He rolls out of bed and makes his way down to the kitchen, turning on the kettle to make himself a cup of coffee.

Life goes on.

-

_wish i was too x_


End file.
